Re:Spawn
by Fluorine
Summary: Thomas wakes up in a strange place with his memory wiped. Minho tells him that every time someone dies, they return alive a week later without their memories. Except Thomas came back a day early. Will the Gladers survive long enough to break free of the endless cycle of memory wiping? Or will they lose their minds as the last Gladers lose their memories? AU. Indef Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is a work of fiction that I wrote before reading Dashner's books and later adopted his characters into. All characters belong to James Dashner and his universe of The Maze Runner. No infringement intended.

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A piercing electronic shriek ran through his mind and he woke. Harsh fluorescent lights greeted his eyes and he groaned, shutting them immediately. He lifted his arm to rub his eyes but he could not move. He looked down at his wrists and was horrified to see metal cuffs running up and down his body, restricting his limbs. The once steady *beep beep beep* that pulsed gently from the corner of the small room began to quicken. His heart began to race in panic.

He stained against the cuffs holding him in place but to no avail. He grunted and balled his fists in frustration, trying to gain some, any kind of leverage against the shackles. He sucked in air to expand his chest and strained further against the metal, but he was once again unsuccessful. He realized he wasn't going anywhere soon and took deep breaths to calm his pulse.

Gazing around the brightly lit room, he realized he was in some sort of medical room. He was lying down in a cot and wore what looked like a hospital gown. The room was bare, save for the EKG that sat in the corner and the IV rack that stood next to his cot. The walls and ceiling were stark white, except for a simple door that was a contrasting light gray. There were no windows. The faint pungent smell of antibiotics hung in the air.

_Where am I?_ he wondered. His stomach groaned and he quickly realized it was from hunger. _When was the last time I ate? And what time is it now?_

There might be someone coming back. He couldn't wait for whoever it was who put him there to return and do who knows what to him. He took a closer look at the cuffs restraining him. They appeared to be made of solid steel, it's dull silvery sheen glistening with the lights overhead. There was a break in the cuff that must have been where the two halves connected. Opposite the break was another piece of steel that was welded to the table. They were fitted tightly around his wrists and he realized the solid steel construction meant he could not simply slip out.

He strained his arms and a soft click echoed in the room. He looked down in surprise at his right arm as the entire cuff came free, the latch still closed and locked into a ring. He quickly reached over and felt around the cuff on his wrist, finally locating the release button. With both his hands free, he made short work of the other restraints on his body. He slowly removed the IV from his arm, wincing as he did so. He jumped out of the cot and carefully stepped toward the door. The white linoleum tiles were cold under his feet. His footfalls were surprisingly loud in the stretched silence. He turned the handle of the door slowly and it obliged, swinging open with ease.

He was in a long corridor that was painted a gray-blue hue. The corridor was about the width of the door and several times the length of the previous room. A single panel of light flush with the wall illuminated the long hallway. A door lay on the end of the hall, but he had a feeling it would be locked. Sure enough, when he walked up to the door and jiggled the handle, it didn't budge.

He knew he was missing something. Someone had locked him up in that room and he had to find out who. The answer had to be behind the door.

His first instinct was to kick down the door. He backed up for some momentum and charged forward, firmly planting his heel into the door. The door shook, the echoes quieted, and the way was still shut. Again and again he threw his weight forward but the door stood unmoving, as if mocking his feeble attempts to break free.

He looked at the light panel and an idea grew in his mind. He looked closely at the plastic shield around the lights and noticed it could be removed. He gave the panel a solid kick and the plastic cracked along the edges. He then carefully removed the fluorescent tube, dimming the area substantially. He placed it on the floor gently and took another look inside the exposed light box. The only light came from the room behind him but it was enough. To his delight, a solid copper wire ran from the main power grid to the back of the panel. Running back inside the previous room, he grabbed all the sheets off the bed and wrapped his hands in them, careful to avoid electrocuting himself. He grasped the solid wire and pulled, pressing his feet against the wall for more leverage. Finally, the wire came loose and he fell against the opposite wall, exhausted.

He knelt at the locked door and inserted one end of the wire and pulled sideways. He took the other end and straightened it. He made a short hook in the end of the wire and inserted that end into the lock, raking it back and forth. A very improvisatory lock pick.

After what seemed like hours of pulling and raking and twisting, he was rewarded with the glorious sound of a lock clicking. He delicately turned the knob and to his hushed excitement, it opened.

He found himself in another long corridor, except this one had a large door with a circular window at the end. As he approached it, a shadowy figure moved past the window and he dropped to the floor immediately. His heart was racing as he stared at the window, hoping that figure didn't see him or return. He wished he could sink into the floor and become an invisible flatness that would make him safe from the watchful eyes of whoever was behind the door, but the best he could do was slink closer to the wall.

He waited at the door, watching through the dusty window. He saw a person move across the door and he pressed himself further against the wall to minimize his profile. The person continued walking past and paid him no attention. He continued waiting by the door, taking into account his surroundings. The boy walking around the door was of average height and build, sporting a crew cut that was starting to get a little long. He turned his back.

Then, he acted.

He slammed his body into the door which swung out into the person standing there. He heard a surprised grunt and saw the person fall to the floor. The boy with the crew cut looked up at him and tried to push himself away but was soon stopped when the he jumped on top of him, grabbing him by the neck.

"Where am I? What did you people do to me?" his words flew out with angry spit that landed on the other boy.

"Shucking get off me, Thomas!" the boy underneath him yelled, choking as the hands around his neck began to squeeze closed.

"Thomas...?" he asked himself, confused. The split second of confusion was a costly mistake and a fist greeted him in the face. He was still stunned from the blow when two more people ran over and tried to pull the two apart.

"Hey! Lay off him!" one of the other boys said.

He tried to reclaim his hold on the other boy's throat but someone held him from behind while another pried his hands apart. He kicked and struggled as he tried to maintain his hold on the boy but he was soon lifted off his feet and thrown across the floor. He slid into the wall near the sinks and found a pipe wrench laying against a pile of cleaning materials. He hefted it as he jumped to his feet, taking a defensive stance against the boy with the crew cut and his two friends. He stopped his approach when the one on the right lifted a rudimentary crossbow made from a length of pipe, cable, and a piece of wood carved into a barrel stock. A chunk of broken glass lashed to a stick sat loaded in the groove of the stock, pointing menacingly at him.

The one on the left spoke first. "Thomas, you need to sit down. I know you're confused but believe me, you need to rest for a moment."

Thomas. It wasn't until the boy called his name did he realize he didn't know his name.

"Who are you?" he pressed, stepping closer to them, hand gripping the pipe wrench tighter.

"I know you don't remember or believe us but we're your friends. My name is Alby, and the guy you just tackled is Gally. Now Minho is getting antsy with that trigger, so you should just do what I say and sit down."

"How can I trust you? For all I know, you put me in that room there!"

Alby breathed a deep sigh. "Honestly you can't trust us, but what's the alternative? If we wanted you dead, I could've had Minho shoot you the moment you walked through that door. I told you, we're your friends."

Thomas looked from Alby to Minho, to the kid with the crew  
cut– Gally was his name, he supposed– who was rubbing his neck and glaring back at him as he sat down on a bench. Thomas realized he was somewhere that looked like a cafeteria, judging from the large open kitchen and the even larger room lined with tables and benches. A row of large square windows sat on the far end of the room, and darkness was all that loomed outside them.

"What is this place?" Thomas asked, slightly less accusingly.

"I can't give you an answer that will satisfy you but you're not alone on this one. None of us really know what this place is. We'll try to explain this to you the best we can but first you need to put that wrench down and trust me."

He walked over to Thomas and extended a hand. Thomas looked down at the pipe wrench he was still clinging to and hesitantly placed it on the floor, shaking Alby's hand. Minho was put more at ease by this and lowered his crossbow, disengaging the makeshift bolt and putting it in a quiver that hung loosely at his side.

"How did you get out of your room?" Alby asked. "You're not supposed to be awake for at least another 6 hours."

"For another 6 hours? How do you know that? And what is that supposed to mean?" Thomas raised his voice slightly. Clearly something bigger was going on than Alby initially let on.

A sudden boom from the other end of the cafeteria echoed through the room and the four boys were hushed into silence. There was a rapid pattering of feet and the sound of scratching along the walls. Alby cursed under his breath and motioned to Minho and Gally. Thomas stood there, trying to see what was going on past the window in the cafeteria door but Alby roughly dragged him by the arm into the kitchen.

He held a finger to his lips for silence. "We're in the middle of an attack. You seriously could _not_ have come at a worse time."

"Attack? By wh-"

The slam of a door opening cut Thomas short. A soft moan emanated from that end of the room, carrying eerily over the silence of the empty night. The footfalls were uneven. _Whatever was out there walked with a limp, _Thomas thought.

Alby tapped Thomas on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow silently. Gally was already crawling through a small air duct in the wall, while Minho slowly loaded his crossbow, watching the entrance to the spacious kitchen. Alby gestured for Thomas to go through the duct first. Thomas crawled on the balls of his feet and his fingertips toward the air duct where Gally was slowly disappearing around a bend. Thomas was almost fully inside when his foot slipped on a puddle of grease, and he banged his leg against the walls of the duct, madly amplifying his ruckus. The creature out there let out a blood-curdling shriek and hobbled over to the kitchen with surprising speed. The creature's bulging bloodshot eyes turned at the group of boys frantically scurrying through the open air duct and it let out another shriek.

Then it ran for them.

"You shuck idiot, stop staring, run!" Alby bellowed.

Alby practically shoved Thomas through the small hole that would only allow them to enter single file. Thomas went into full panic mode and crawled through the hole faster than he had ever crawled in his life. His fingers clawed at the slippery surfaces of the metal surrounding him, and his feet kept slipping on the tractionless ground. His legs felt like they had turned to jelly from the sudden release of adrenaline throughout his system.

"Faster!" he heard Alby command.

He heard another shriek outside, but this noise sounded like it was in pain. Alby kept shoving Thomas's backside through the air duct and he kept moving until he heard a loud scrape of metal on metal followed by a hollow _thump_. He fell out of the air duct on his front and quickly flipped himself around and tried to stand up. He turned around to see Minho crawling through the same way, loading another arrow as he pushed himself away with his feet. Thomas realized Minho must have shot the creature as he crawled through, causing that awful shrieking noise. Minho gasped for air as he got up, the tip of his crossbow never leaving the entrance of the open air duct.

A horrifying screeching noise came from the other side of the air duct, and a manic banging noise followed. The screeching and banging faded and was replaced by a slow hiss that gurgled up from the creature's throat. Then the noise faded altogether. Gally sighed in relief and replaced the vent that covered the air duct. Alby shook his head in wonder.

"That was the closest I've been to one of those things in a long time. Thanks to you, Thomas, I'll start having nightmares again."

"Hey, it's not my fault that thing came after us! And what was that anyway?"

Gally pulled out a large machete from his belt. "That, my friend, is the reason you need to stay in your room until we release you. They're the monsters of this place. We don't really have a name for them but we like to call them Shriekers for obvious reasons."

They were standing in what looked like a food storage room. A large refrigerator door stood opposite the air duct, and a blueish glow from the temperature control panel gave the room its light.

"How did you get out of your room anyway?" Alby asked suspiciously.

"Doesn't matter." Thomas mumbled. Alby leaned in and cocked his head slightly in annoyance.

"Doesn't matter? I want to know how you broke out 6 hours ahead of schedule!" Alby's voice grew irritated.

Minho placed a hand on Alby's shoulder and pulled him from Thomas. "Keep it down, will you? We'll figure it out later. We need to bring him up to speed on things otherwise this little problem here-" he gestured making a swirling motion with his hand above Thomas and Alby, "-will cost us our lives."

"And our memories." Gally added.

"Our memories? But if you die-" Thomas started.

Minho looked at Thomas. "Something about this place is different. It's weird. Whenever someone dies, they come back to life a week later without their memories. You weren't supposed to come back until tomorrow morning."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Hey guys, I'm back with the second chapter! So who else is excited for Fever Code? Too bad it's coming out in 2016...the wait had better be worth it!-

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**Chapter 2**

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Thomas stopped with shock. He swallowed before speaking. "What do you mean I died a week ago?"

"Quiet down. We'll give you all your answers in a while, but right now you need to just follow us," Minho said.

Alby shushed both of them as he motioned for Minho to lead on. Minho adjusted his shirt sleeves that covered his thick arms and shouldered his backpack. They left the food storage room through a large steel door and came out in a long hallway. Several more doors that looked like they led to offices lined both sides of the hallway. Minho led the way down the hall at a brisk pace.

Thomas looked up and down the many doors in the hallway and read the signs. He realized these were all offices of doctors and physicians.

_Kenneth Easley, MD_ one sign read.

_Richard Alberts, MD_ another read.

"Are we in a hospital?" Thomas asked.

Alby replied first. "That's what we think. Half these offices are for doctors and judging by the way we got here, I'd say it's some medical facility at least."

"You woke up in the cot too?" Thomas asked.

"We all did. Now be quiet," Gally ordered.

Thomas came upon another plaque. Some of the words were smudged out but one word was still clearly visible.

_Janson_

Thomas's head felt like it was about to split open. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out. He crashed into something he couldn't see and lay there.

_He was looking up into a bright light. Blurred faces in masks looked down at him. Some looked concerned._

_"What happened to him? "_  
_"Who knows?"_  
_"30cc's of morphine."_  
_"Here."_  
_"Why don't we just prep another?"_  
_"We have to keep this one. He has the best chance out of all of them."_

_His eyes closed to the faces hovering above him. All he felt was pain._

_"Clotting paste."_  
_"Here."_  
_"He's gonna have to be put on heavy antibiotics for a while."_  
_"We have a week."_

"Thomas!" someone whispered his name loudly into his ear. He opened his eyes as someone began to shake his shoulder. He was collapsed against the wall, leaning in it for support. Minho's face loomed in front of him, a raised eyebrow pronouncing itself. Thomas quickly got up.

"Sorry, I'm fine."

"What the shuck was that?" Gally hissed

"Watch your step next time," Alby chided. Minho pointed to a pile of wooden boards that had been stacked against the wall. One was dislodged from the stack.

Did he really just trip over a stack of boards? He felt something more than a bump on his head for sure, but he couldn't tell what it was. Like something was knocked loose from his brain and an unknown force was trying to break free.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Quit making noise or you'll really be sorry. Ought to feed you to the Shriekers if you don't-" Minho punched Gally in the arm, silencing the boy's rant. Gally shot a glare at Minho menacingly but Minho's face looked serious as he held a finger to his lips.

A quiet moan began to swell up from a distant hallway, sending chills up Thomas's spine. The moan echoed through the empty halls and bounced back and forth between the walls. Thomas thought it might have come from behind him, but the echoing made it difficult to tell. Minho pointed toward a stairwell sign at the end of the hallway. Alby nodded and began to tiptoe his way to the stairwell. Gally followed suit. Thomas was still transfixed by the haunting sound when Minho grabbed his arm and tried to pull him toward the stairwell.

"We need to get to the Safehouse on the ninth floor," Alby whispered to Thomas.

"What floor were we on?" Thomas asked.

"The third. I hope you like stairs," Minho replied.

After six flights of huffing and puffing, Thomas was quite sure he did not like stairs. When they got to the top, Minho carefully cracked open the door. He listened for movement first, then cautiously peered out the door. He gave a thumbs up to the others and walked through.

"There." Minho pointed at a door at the middle of the hallway.

"What's through there?" Thomas asked.

"The rest of your family," Alby said, grinning.

Minho pushed open the door to reveal a large room with tables lining the walls and ratty looking mattresses strewn about. Many faces looked back at him in surprise.

"Who's that?"

"Hey there, Thomas."

"Is my shuck brain not working or is he a day early?"

"Oh yeah... isn't he early?"

"Tom?"

He turned to see a girl looking at him quizzically. Her long dark hair framed her face, which was filled with concern and question. Her gaze seemed to trigger something in his mind and he found himself unable to speak.

"Um. Yeah, I'm Thomas," he responded dumbly. Nearby, another blond haired boy Thomas didn't recognize snickered. Thomas looked at the boy confused.

"What's so funny?" Thomas asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Well she's only your bloody girlfriend," the boy said, causing a few other boys to chuckle less than discreetly. "You could do a little better than 'it's me, Tommy'."

"My... what?"

"Come on, Newt, he's lost his memory," the girl crossed her arms.

"Ah, completely forgot about that. I'm Newt," the boy said, extending a hand. The girl shot him a glare. A look of realization dawned upon his face and he added, "No pun intended."

Newt reached out and Thomas shook his hand hesitantly. "It really is good to have you back, Tommy. Sorry 'bout that, I forgot what happens when someone... it's just been a while since someone... well ya' know-"

"-died." Thomas finished his sentence. Newt nodded sheepishly. "Er, yeah. That."

"Grab the cinder blocks. We need to barricade the stairwell. And here's your meds, Clint." Minho tossed a bottle to Clint who began to distribute the pills to several other boys, shouting back a thank-you to Minho. Minho and another boy with medium length hair left, dragging a stack of cinder blocks away on a cart.

Alby walked up to Thomas. "A few of them had a bad run in with a group of Shriekers and got scraped up pretty bad. Some lucky shank got a nasty infection. That's why Minho, Gally, and I were down in the kitchen in the first place. Usually the med-jacks-" he pointed a thumb at Clint and another boy Thomas didn't recognize, "-have extra, but we ran out and needed them bad. We weren't supposed to be down there until we picked you up tomorrow. Come on..."

Alby motioned for Thomas to follow him into another more secluded room where they could talk more privately. Thomas sat down on a rusty looking chair and Alby did the same. Thomas started before Alby could ask any more questions.

"But why do you and everyone else here keep saying I'm a day early? What does that even mean?"

Alby held up a hand to slow him down. "Look, we don't really understand it either, but we're all in the same situation here. We all woke up in that cot, and none of us remember anything about ourselves. And no one really gets the whole resurrection thing either. Honestly to me, it's kinda freaky. But what I'm telling you is what I _know_. It always takes a week and you always lose your memory. How did you get out a day early?"

Thomas's eyes narrowed in frustration. "You think I actually know? I didn't even know my shuck name when I woke up! All I know is that I got up and I broke out of those cuffs."

The word left Thomas's mouth before he realized what he said. That term, _shuck_. What did it even mean? He had heard it being thrown around between the other boys but it seemed to be more of a made up slang word than anything with meaning. What scared him was that it seemed to flow so naturally with his speech, almost like he said it by instinct.

Alby's brow furrowed. "Well then how did you break out of the cuffs? Those are made of solid steel. On the days a person is supposed to get up, that outer door is opened and someone goes in to unlock the cuffs. There's no way you broke through those cuffs on your own."

"I'm telling you, that's what happened!" Thomas yelled angrily. "I wake up, I have no idea who I am or what this place is, then I see the cuffs. I tried to break out for a bit but nothing worked. Then suddenly they just broke off. I didn't care if there was some dumb schedule I had to keep! I just bolted!"

"Then how did you get past the outer door?"  
Thomas was starting to get irritated by this Alby guy. So many questions, and to his frustration, his best response was always that 'he didn't know'. "I picked the lock with a bit of wire I filched from the lights."

"And the electricity?"

"I wrapped my hands in the bedsheets to prevent myself from getting electrocuted," Thomas said, almost smugly this time. He knew he was innocent of whatever he was being accused of, and at this point showing he could outsmart the system better than the others seemed to be good payback.

But as much as he hated to admit it, Alby was right to ask those questions. The whole circumstances surrounding his situation and early break out didn't seem right to him. Not that anything else around here seemed right. Everyone had lost their memories and were being chased around by monsters called Shriekers. Then he had a flashback of an operating room where someone said he would get up in a week. There was a sinister breath to the very air he breathed that set Thomas on edge. No, something about this place wasn't right.

A knock on the door interrupted his recount of the day's events. Newt poked his head inside the room with worry and panic written together in a blur all over his face. "Alby, you better hurry over here. Something happened and the others aren't back from barricading yet."

Everyone was abuzz, grabbing supplies and stacking tables near the door. Someone pushed past him and Alby, mumbling what sounded like "excuse me." Clint and that other boy were directing others who were helping to carry the bandaged injured. The girl Newt introduced as "his bloody girlfriend" had jumped into rapid discourse with Gally, who kept shaking his head and motioning toward the door with his long arms. Whatever it was that was going on was obviously heated.

"Alright, what the _shuck_ is happening?" Alby bellowed. The room quieted down a bit after his booming voice jolted everyone to attention.

"Minho and Ben aren't back yet and... well you have to see this for yourself," Newt said with warning.

Alby followed Newt to the door that led to the hallway. Newt was cautious as he slowly opened the door. He peered out, then waved his hand towards Alby. Alby walked up to the door and crept out into the hallway. His mouth went dry.

Roaming up and down the entire hallway were at least a dozen Shriekers. They lolled about absent mindedly, walking with no specific purpose or direction. Worst yet, were the knocked over pile of cinder blocks and a cart that was tipped on its side. Minho and Ben were nowhere to be seen.


End file.
